Nine Days
by aussieokie
Summary: It's Christmas, and with the Post Office shutting down for the break at Red's insistence, Ressler is dreading the thought of nine lonely days over the holiday. And settling in to his lonely break, he's startled by a knock at the door. Perhaps fate has other plans. Part 2 of '10 Months'. Written for AlyB123, from a prompt she gave me.
1. Chapter 1

It was just another day at work at the post office. Blacklisters on the overhead screens and the task force around Aram's desk. But today was different. Today there was an undercurrent of anticipation in the air. With four days to go before Christmas, the post office was only half manned. Many had taken the day off, ready for an extra long weekend. And as soon as they were done in a couple of hours, the task force would be released until the following week. An entire week off. Almost unheard of and something Ressler wasn't looking forward to at all. But Reddington, ever the source of their gainful employment had blatantly told them he was not giving them a case next week. The team, according to Reddington (and not entirely backed up by the Dept of Justice, or Cooper, for that matter,) deserved some down time. He was adamant on that point, and Cooper had finally acquiesced.

Ressler only half listened to the criminal, despite outwardly giving him his full attention. A whole week off. Maybe he could ask Cooper if there was something he could work on during the week. He didn't need a week off. He didn't _want_ a week off to prowl around his empty apartment, screaming at him from the walls that he was alone. He had no family. No children who would unwrap gifts on Tuesday morning. His gaze dropped, and he swallowed, suddenly hit with an image of the pregnancy test that had been in Audrey's suitcase. _Don't. Don't do that_. He squashed the image, with renewed determination to make Cooper give him a job to do next week.

In an effort to get his mind back on the post office and off non-existent children and wives, Ressler's eyes flitted around the war room. Guards stood either side of the yellow elevator. Dembe hovered in the shadows, ever the silent sentinel. He watched the dark man for a moment before returning to the impeccably dressed criminal who was now about to make his farewells to the team. The same criminal he'd chased for five years, and stopped chasing five years ago. Ten years of his life had been spent looking for and working with Raymond Reddington.

Ten years. Where would he be now if Raymond Reddington had never been born? Or at least, never decided to grow one of the biggest criminal enterprises out there. He'd have been happy. He'd have been married to Audrey with a child, maybe two, waiting for him at home. Damn the man. But it wasn't Reddington's fault. Not really. Not at all actually. He was just the easy target. The real criminal act had been that Ressler had let his job come before his fiance. A woman he had loved deeply. And he'd paid the price for it – as had Audrey in the most heartbreaking way – ever since then.

"Donald, don't look so glum," Red teased, then clapped Ressler on the shoulder. "Wondering what Santa will bring this year? Wondering if you've been a naughty or nice boy scout?"

Ressler shook his head, half smiling at the criminal. Reddington knew damn well he hadn't been a by-the-book model boy scout this year. Prescott had seen to that. No, he berated himself again, he had seen to that, allowing himself to plunge head first down the rabbit hole, and Red had fixed it. Mr Fix It. Raymond Reddington. He both loathed and loved the man and his deeds.

"Agent Ressler is always nice," Aram blurted out, then flushed and returned to his screens.

"Don't be so sure," Ressler told him, then stepped toward Cooper as their boss turned to head back upstairs.

"Sir? A word?" he asked.

Cooper bypassed the stairs and went to stand under them, out of view and earshot of the team. "What is it, Agent Ressler? Though I believe I already know. You don't want a whole week off, do you?"

"No, sir, I don't. I'd much rather be in here and-"

Cooper was already shaking his head. "As much as it pains me to admit, Reddington is quite right. You've all had a hard year. You've all earned this small break. Take advantage of it to relax, regroup and just, how shall I put it? Chill. Just chill out this week, Don." A smile danced around Cooper's eyes. He knew his lead agent all too well. "You do know what that means, right?"

Ressler sighed. He wasn't going to get anywhere with his boss. "Yes, sir." Just call me the chill master, he thought as he groaned inwardly.

"Take some quality time off. Maybe go visit your family. It is a holiday, after all. You're supposed to spend time with the ones you love."

Ressler nodded, then turned, resigned to his fate. It wouldn't just be a week. With weekends he was facing nine days away from the Post Office. His heart sank even further. Nine days! Spend time with the ones you love, Cooper had said. Perhaps he should gave got that ticket and joined the family cruise to, where was it? Mexico? Belize? His mother had insisted they all get away from another snowy Christmas in Detroit, and his brother's family had gone along with it. They'd be flying out tomorrow to join the cruise ship in New Orleans, and Ressler, who'd assumed he'd be working, had politely declined the invite. Not that anyone in his family had been surprised at that revelation. And now he wasn't working, and had no inclination to sail off to South America. He couldn't get a ticket at this stage, even if he had changed his mind.

"What was that about?" Liz asked, as soon as he walked through the door to their office.

He gave her the faintest of smiles, and shook his head. She didn't need to know he was being a Grinch. Or was it a Scrooge? Whatever, he wasn't in a Christmas frame of mind. He deflected the conversation, motioning to her packed bag on the floor by her desk.

"Nothing. So, you all set?"

She smiled, knowing what he was doing, but letting him off the hook. It was obvious he didn't like this enforced time off, but she'd let him tell her if he wanted to. "Yeah, Agnes will be so surprised when I show up to get her!" she beamed, her face lighting up at the thought of her daughter. "I'll head there as soon as we're done, pick her up, and then her and I are going to have some quality mommy daughter time this next week."

Ressler sat down in his chair, watching Liz's eye's light up at the thought of the little girl she'd barely spent any time with. If anything, he himself had spent as much time with Agnes, during the 10 months of Liz's coma. "She'll love it," he said, picturing Liz and Agnes putting up their small Christmas tree, and getting in some good cuddle time. His heart gave a little lurch at the thought, and once again, he squashed down those feelings. Christmas sucked when you lived alone.

"You're welcome to join us for Christmas dinner, Ress." Liz's words softened, and he met her eyes over their dual desks.

It was so tempting. But it was their special time, and he wasn't going to intrude on that. He shook his head, opened his mouth to decline, but Liz didn't let him speak when she saw which direction he was heading.

"Agnes would love to see you again," she prodded, seeing the hesitation in his eyes. "And if you're put off by my cooking, don't be, as I'm basically ordering the meal in," she grinned. Then sobered, as he still hadn't given her an answer. "Please?"

It was the way she said please that did him in. He couldn't refuse that undertone in her voice. That silent need. His shoulders relaxed a little, and he smiled. "Sure. Okay, I'll come for dinner," he agreed, and was immediately warmed at the sight of her beaming smile again.

"Perfect," she said. "Dinner will be around 5pm. And don't feel you need to get Agnes a gift. Honestly, she has so many toys, and doesn't need more. Just seeing her Uncle Donnie will be more than enough."

"Thanks, but don't kill me if a doll happens to fall off a shelf and into my shopping cart," Ressler replied, and suddenly the Christmas week didn't feel quite so bleak. Liz laughed then, a beautiful warm sound that melted away the cloud over him. Cooper's words drifted through his thoughts, and he held onto them. _You're supposed to spend time with the ones you love._ He gazed at Liz over their desks, captivated by her light and laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

Two hours later they were dismissed, and at 4:00pm in the afternoon Ressler entered his empty apartment. After changing out of his suit and into jeans and sweat shirt, he stood at the window in his living room and watched the traffic below. He wasn't really seeing though, as his thoughts drifted inward. Christmas was getting harder with each passing year. His head turned to take in the single chair in his living room, where Audrey's suitcase had sat all those years ago. It still hurt to think about her and their lost child.

"Take care of our little girl up there, sweetie," he whispered, and blinked back sudden tears that threatened. A quick trip to the fridge and a beer was in his hand as he tossed the bottle cap into the trash. Any joy he'd felt at spending Christmas evening with Liz and Agnes had dissolved. He had days and days of this before he went to her apartment on Tuesday. He needed to find something to do. His beer only half finished, he headed to his workout room and lifted a few weights, and hit the exercise machines hard. Then after pounding on his punching bag for a while - a long while - always therapeutic, he headed to the shower to wash off the fresh sheen of sweat.

While in the shower, often where he did some of his best thinking, his mind had touched on an idea. A trip to his cabin. If he had to be alone at Christmas, why not there? The more he thought about it, the more he had the beginnings of a plan. He could head out tomorrow, Saturday, spend the weekend there, head back Christmas eve or even Christmas morning, and still be at Liz's for Christmas dinner that evening. Shutting off the water and stepping out of the shower, he made up his mind. The cabin it was. He could even go grab his supplies this evening at the store so he'd be all ready to leave at first light.

It was as he was toweling his head dry and heading to the kitchen to decide if he was re-heating something for dinner or ordering in, that he heard the knock at his door. He glanced at the clock, noting it was just after 7pm, and went to answer. Opening the door, towel over his shoulder, he was greeted with the sight of Liz. And not the Liz he'd left a few hours ago. Not the one with eyes shining with joy and eager anticipation. Her bloodshot eyes met his from her tear stained face, her mascara smudged and running.

"Liz, what's wrong?" he asked, alarmed, as his hand found her arm and gently pulled her inside, closing the door behind them. "What's happened?" he asked, his heart pounding in his chest as his arm found her shaking shoulders.

"It's my own fault," she stammered, fresh tears streaming down her face.

"What is it?" he asked, leading her toward the living room. But he already knew. Agnes wasn't with her. Her plans to pick up her baby girl had obviously gone awry.

"I just wanted to surprise her," Liz told him as she sank onto the couch and he sat close beside her, his arm still around her. "Christmas lights in New York tomorrow night, and then home." She looked at him, the pain etched on her features. "But Scottie wasn't even there. She took Agnes to… to Europe for the holidays…"

She broke down again, her voice rising hysterically. "I can't even see my own little girl for Chris-" The rest of the sentence was lost as sobs engulfed her. Ressler folded her into his chest, his towel doing double duty, his arms encircling her and holding her close as she shook and sobbed against him. He closed his eyes against the sound. It was heartbreaking.

"I'm sorry, so sorry, Liz," he whispered over and over into her hair. "I know you wanted to..."

"I just want..." she sobbed, her voice cracking again. "Just wanted..." her voice hitched, "to, to surprise her!"

"I know you did, and I'm so sorry it didn't work out..." he told her, his lips close to her ear.

"I know... you are..." she hitched, her arms encircled him then bringing her closer to him. She was quiet then, and as he held her, the shaking subsided as she began to calm. He held her close, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

His chin was still resting on her hair when she slowly pulled away from him and looked at him through red, swollen eyes, sniffing hard. "What would I do without you?"

He smiled at her gently, his hands still holding her upper arms as she sat close. "Always here for hugs, Liz, you know that."

Her hand found his chest, "I know, and I love you for that," she said, as his heart lurched under her hand and the three words buried within her sentence. "And look, you even provided a cry towel," she said, attempting to interject some humor, before the half smile left her lips.

"Just call me Mr Prepared," he said, smiling.

"You're such a good Boy Scout," she said, patting the towel, then glanced toward his bedroom and bathroom. "Um, can I go clean up a bit?" she asked.

"Of course you can," he told her. As she rose to her feet, he was reluctant to let his hands drop from her. "I was about to check out the dinner situation. What do you feel like? I'll order us something."

"Oh, Ress, you don't need-"

"No, I don't need to. I want to. Chinese? Mexican? Steak? Name your poison."

She stood in his bedroom doorway, her face a mess, yet she smiled at him, if a little wanly. "You choose. It all sounds great," she told him, then pointed her thumb behind her. "I'll just be in here, trying to regain some semblance of control."

She came back out into the living room about 15 minutes later, disheveled makeup washed off and her face now scrubbed clean and makeup-free. It made her look younger, he thought, so see her minus her makeup. But what he noticed the most was how dull her eyes were now behind the red rims. The former spark replaced with sadness.

She plopped down beside him on the couch again. "Thank you," she told him, patting his knee. She motioned to the menus on his coffee table. "So what did you order?"

"Would you believe pizza? And chicken wings, too. Finger food tonight," he said, smiling.

"Oh good, I wouldn't trust myself with a knife," she said, leaning back on the couch as he stood. "Kidding, I think..."

"Beer? Wine? Water?"

"You're such a good waiter," she said, gazing up at him. "Water is great." She looked down. "I feel too sad to drink... I may not stop at one..."

He paused, looking at her downcast eyes, then went to grab her a bottle of cold water. He sat down beside her again. "So, while you were getting cleaned up, I was thinking..." he paused, unsure if he should say exactly what he had been thinking. It was far too forward. Wasn't it?

Sipping her water, she looked at him questioningly. "Oh? About what?"

He changed his mind. "Oh, well, no, it's nothing." He looked at his watch. "Food should be here soon," he said, attempting to change the subject.

"Really? You're going to tell me you thought of something, then not tell me?" she said, tilting her head at him, silently asking him to please open up and tell her.

Oh, okay, in for a penny, in for a pound, he thought. "Well, I was going to head to my cabin tomorrow for a few days to escape Christmas… and I thought… I mean, I wondered... if..." God, what was wrong with him? Why couldn't he say it? Her eyes were boring into his.

"My gosh, Ress, spit it out!" she said, now smiling at her nervous partner, because she already had a feeling what he was trying to ask, and loved him for it. For caring that much. But she was going to let him ask it. Chivalry was not dead.

"Would you like to come and stay at my cabin with me, to escape Christmas?" he blurted out, and looked at her expectantly.

She smiled, surprised at his boldness, yet truly touched at his offer and the sincerity in his eyes. She should have been with Agnes and spending time with her. He should have been with his own family, and wasn't. They were both alone. A voice of reason was trying to tell her she should just go home to her own empty apartment, but the longer she looked into his eyes, the idea appealed to her more and more and there was no way she could refuse him.

She didn't say anything, and he feared he'd blown it. Way to go, dude. How to look like a complete ass with a distraught woman who came to you for comfort and reassurance.

Then her face broke out in a slow, genuine smile. "I would like that," she said, and leaned into him to nudge his shoulder briefly. "Very much so."

Relieved, and rather pleased with himself, he smiled back. "Me too," he told her.

A knock came at the door, giving them both a few moments to collect their thoughts as he rose to get their pizza order. But now that she'd agreed, he was fine and no longer nervous about his idea. His very forward idea.


	3. Chapter 3

He picked her up at 8am the following morning, a little worried that after a night to think about it, she might have changed her mind. But before he could even get out of the car to ring her doorbell, his fears were put to rest when she appeared, backpack slung over her shoulders and dressed in warm clothing, boots, and her trademark woolen beanie.

She climbed in next to him. "I didn't sleep well, so I was up early and waiting for you," she said as he took her backpack off her and leaned back to drop it on the back seat. She was right about the not sleeping part. He could see the puffiness under her normally bright eyes.

"Ready?" he asked as she pulled on her seat belt.

"Let's do this," she said, and settled back in as he headed south out of the city. After a little while, they stopped at a drive through and got coffee for him and hot chocolate and a bagel for her, then continued on their way.

"Aren't you glad you got up the nerve to ask me?" she asked, munching on her blueberry bagel.

He glanced at her over his hot coffee, holding the steering wheel with his left hand. "I'm just glad you said yes." He grinned then, remembering his inability to just come out and ask her. "Or it could have been really awkward," he deadpanned, then broke out with a laugh.

She laughed out loud, remembering how nervous he'd been. She adored his laugh. She hadn't see it very often over the years. And chatting away, each feeling better than they had in some time, they drove out of the city and south toward his cabin three hours away.

###

Just before noon, they pulled up at a small grocery store in the small town of Newville. Ressler had called ahead to Bill, the old guy who had run the store for decades, and had a grocery order ready to pick up.

"Come meet the old dude. You'll like him," he told Liz as he climbed out of the car.

Shucking her seat belt off, she walked with him into the store and as he held the door for her, the bell rang announcing their arrival.

An old man was at the counter, giving a woman change and looked up at them. His eyes lit up at the sight of Ressler walking toward him, Liz in tow.

"Don, right on time!" he said, smiling broadly. "I got you all set up and went and flipped those power fuses on for you this morning."

"Hey, Bill, good to see you again, and thank you, I appreciate it," Ressler said, shaking the old man's hand. "This is Liz," he said, motioning to her.

Bill's eyes crinkled with his grin. "Any friend of Don's is a friend of ours. Lovely to meet you, young lady," he said giving Ressler a wink. He turned to a teenaged boy stocking shelves. "Chris, go get the Ressler order in the back and take it out, would you please?"

"You staying for Christmas?" Bill asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Ressler said, looking to Liz who nodded. "We just wanted to get out of the rat race for a while."

Bill grinned again. "If you get lonely out there," he stopped then, looking between them, "not that I think you will," he laughed, "then you're more than welcome to come save me from Miriam's three helpings of turkey on Christmas day."

"We'll keep it in mind. Thanks Bill," Ressler told him, then paid for the grocery order as Chris came back inside after loading it in their vehicle.

As they left the store and got back in the car, Liz smiled. "He thinks we're a couple," she said, and Ressler simply looked at her. Bill wasn't entirely wrong on that point. This was more than work colleagues. This was a little more than friendship and he knew. But did she feel the same, he wondered? She met his eyes, and just smiled as she put her belt back on.

###

As soon as they arrived at the cabin and he'd retrieved the key from its hiding spot, Liz walked through it all, taking in the layout and looking through each window. "It's so beautiful!" she said, then came and helped him finish stocking the fridge and pantry. "I can't believe your grandfather built this!"

"With some later help from my father, yeah," he said, closing the fridge which was already cold thanks to Bill turning the power on for him that morning. "Coffee?" he asked as she went to the living room and looked at the photos above the mantle.

"Wow, you look so much like your dad," she said as he handed her the steaming cup of coffee a few minutes later.

Ressler looked at the image, then turned away. "Yeah, that's what Reddington said too." He'd had a hard time here a year ago, confessing all his sins to his father's image and the memory of it was still fresh.

"Wait, what? Reddington was here? When?"

"Last year. I came here when… when you were in your coma," he told her, sorry he'd caused the look that crossed her eyes. He shook his head and attempted a smile. "It's a long story," he said, then kneeled down and began to build up the fire.

"And we've got time. If you feel up to telling me, I'm up to listening to it," she told him.

He looked up from his fire building. Part of him wanted to tell her. The other part never wanted to think about Hitchin, Prescott and Reddington's 'solution' again. "I'll think about it," he said non-committally and then finished building the fire. As he lit it, the place immediately felt cozier. They stood warming themselves in the growing flames, before Ressler put the fire guard in front of it.

"Want to look around outside?" he asked, and a few minutes later, wearing their coats and gloves, they left the confines of the cabin, letting it warm up while he showed her the grounds. They walked down to the creek, and she breathed in the pine scented air. Pockets of snow lay on the ground after a fall a few days ago.

"This is awesome," she said, her cheeks red and her eyes bright and her breath billowing around her. "So fresh and beautiful!"

He was looking at her eyes shining in the low afternoon sun. It was, he had to agree.

###

That evening, their dinner plates pushed aside on the dining table, they sat talking. "Who knew you could cook so well?" she said, and he smiled. With her track record in the kitchen, it was just as well he knew his way around a frying pan. He decided not to mention that.

Gathering up their plates, he washed them while she made hot chocolate. He didn't normally drink it, but something about being at the cabin made it more appealing. It reminded him of simpler times. As they sat down in the living room, cozily lit by lamps, Liz pulled a blanket over her legs and leaned back, sipping on her drink.

He nodded to the DVDs on a shelf. "Want to watch something? I have the worlds oldest movie collection here," he asked, but she declined.

"No, I just want to sit here in the firelight. This is nice," she said, her head leaning back in the glow of the fire. "I can't believe you don't come here more often."

"Well, I used to, years ago. Before..." he looked away. "I was bringing Audrey here to keep her safe when she..."

She nodded slowly to him. She remembered. "Yes… I know." Years had passed but she knew it had forever changed him. "But you came last year," she pressed, not asking, but letting him know she hadn't forgotten about that if he wanted to talk.

"Yeah. Cooper gave me two weeks off. Call it enforced vacation," he said. "Kinda like now," he added, trying to make light of it.

"I think it was more than that though, right?"

He met her eyes, as the firelight flickered across her. "Yes, it was."

"Did it help, coming here?"

He paused, remembering. "Yeah, I think so. Gave me time to clear my head. Work some things out."

"And Red came here?" she asked over her mug, a glint in her eyes.

"He did. He needed Captain America's help, so hey, how could I disappoint?" he said, remembering, giving her a soft smile.

"Oh, now this I have to hear," she said, grinning at him, and settling in, he told her what Red had needed of him regarding two little boys who were in trouble.

As he told her, and also about the second trip Red had required of him, in Brussels, he was finally all talked out. But he never told her the real reason he'd needed some time off. He didn't dare tell her about Prescott.

"I don't think I've ever heard you say so much at one time," she said, smiling at him from under her blanket.

He shrugged, then got up to add another couple of logs to the fire. It wasn't late, by city standards, but out here in the country it seemed natural to turn in earlier. As they rose and he turned off the lamps in the living room, they headed to the rear of the cabin, where she went into the room on the right side of the hallway, and he went into the room at the rear, his parents old bedroom.

"You know where everything is, so I'm sure you'll be fine," he told her, hovering in his open doorway.

"I do, this is great," she said, looking back into her room. "Really, thank you for asking me to come. This is exactly what I needed."

He nodded to her, "I'm glad. Goodnight, Liz," he said and as she wished him goodnight too, each of them went to their separate rooms.

"Night, John Boy!" she called out a few minutes later where he could hear her from his room. And climbing into his own bed, he grinned, and reached across and turned out the light.


	4. Chapter 4

"We need a tree," Liz announced the next morning after breakfast.

"Look out the front door. We got a million of them."

She grinned, knowing he was going to say that, and he didn't disappoint. "A Christmas tree! It would look so nice. Do you have lights?" She turned around and pointed to a corner of the living room. "We could put it right there."

"What part of 'we came here to escape Christmas' aren't you quite getting?"

"Actually, we came here to escape our lonely apartments," she corrected, with a brief look away, then gathered herself and smiled at him. "So what do you say?"

Her enthusiasm was infectious and he smiled. "I'll make you a deal. If you can find Christmas lights in the closet in your room, I'll cut you a tree."

"You are on!" she replied and marched off to her room.

He followed, standing in the doorway sipping on a second cup of coffee. "Mom kept boxes of stuff in there, and I know we spent Christmas here many times, so you might be in luck," he said as she unstacked some boxes. After a brief look in each one, most of which held board games, she gave a triumphant cry.

"Yes! Okay buster, if these lights still work, you better get your lumberjack gear on." He watched as she plugged them in and amazingly most of them still worked. After screwing in a few loose ones, she had a full string of large tree lights, plus an old tree stand and a box of ornaments. She beamed up at him. "My end of the deal is met!"

He'd known they were there all along, and had just wanted to see her find them. "Just call me Lumberjack Don," he said, smiling, and went to get his coat.

###

"It's so cold!" she said, shivering under her thick coat, hat, scarves and gloves. Walking in the cold morning air, they were looking between the cabin and the creek for just the right young tree.

"May I remind you that this was your idea?" he replied, walking beside her, towing a sled behind him, that held a small chainsaw for his tree cutting. "Me, I mean, I was happy just-"

"Oh, hush!" she laughed, swatting his arm. "You're enjoying this as much as I am, admit it!"

He laughed in reply. She had him there. "What about that one?" he said, slowing and pointing to his left at a small pine tree about 6 foot tall.

She inspected it from all angles. "It's got a missing bit here at the back. Let's keep looking!"

"Okay, ma'am. One tree without missing half its ass coming up."

She laughed, despite the cold and her red cheeks, and they kept looking. They found the perfect tree a few minutes later down by the creek. A cool wind swept over them as Ressler fired up his chainsaw (he'd been amazed the gas in it still worked when he'd retrieved it from the small shed.) As he cut into the small trunk, about 4 inches thick, the small tree swayed then gave way.

"Timber!" Liz yelled, which was rather overkill for the small size of the tree.

She stood back as he dragged it onto the sled, its branches overhanging, but it fit well and saved him having to drag the tree itself back and losing branches on it. Hooking the two straps around his shoulders he towed the laden sled back to the cabin while Liz carried the small chainsaw.

When they arrived back, they worked the tree stand onto the trunk of the tree, then Ressler carried it inside, depositing it in the corner Liz had chosen.

"Your tree, ma'am," he said, standing back and surveying his handiwork.

"It's perfect!" she said, then set about putting the string of lights on it.

Helping her wrap the lights around the tree, he felt good inside. He smiled at her as they finished draping the lights, then let her finish putting the ornaments on. He was never good at that part. His mother usually, secretly or not so secretly, rearranged the ornaments after he and his brother had haphazardly put them on the tree in years gone by.

"Oh, my gosh, look at this one!" Liz held up a flat cardboard ornament with child's writing on it. "You wrote this?"

He took it from her. He had written it long ago in his childhood. A cardboard circle with glitter glued to it, and he'd written on it 'Christmas 1986 – My wish is a puppy – Donnie'.

"Did you ever get a puppy?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Yeah, we got a dog shortly after that. It was an idiot and never did anything we told it to," he said, as she broke out laughing. "But we adored him."

She found another similar ornament, this one with the words 'Christmas 1986 – My wish is a BB gun – Peter'.

Ressler looked at it before Liz put it on the tree. "Yeah, apparently my brother should have been the cop."

Liz laughed anew then stood back admiring the tree. It filled the corner of the cabin with coloured lights and ornaments, and the soft pine smell was already in the air.

"It's perfect!" she said, "Thank you!"

Ressler grinned at her, once again pleased that he'd asked her to come. Neither of them would have bothered with a tree in their apartments. Yet here, together, it was welcome.

###

That evening, Ressler was cooking dinner, a task Liz had willingly relinquished to him, while she went to wash up. With it almost ready to serve, he called out to her, "It's almost ready."

She came from her bedroom holding her phone. Her eyes were downcast.

"Liz?" he put the pot down that he was holding, and touched her arm. "What is it?"

Her tear filled eyes looked up at him, ready to spill over. "I missed it when it came in. It was while we were getting the tree and I just checked my phone."

"What did you miss?" he asked.

"This," she said, and played a video that had been sent to her. She held the phone while they both watched, and there was Scottie with Agnes, and the child was on Scottie's knee while someone filmed them.

"Say hi to mommie!" Scottie prompted, and Agnes swiveled on her lap to look at Scottie. "Hi mama!"

"Not me, silly, say hi to mommy," Scottie prompted and pointed to the camera.

Shyly, Agnes leaned back against Scottie, then buried her head in the woman. "Mommy," she said. Scottie gently turned her, and prompted Agnes again, who said "Hi mama," and encouraged with a wave from Scottie, Agnes then waved before turning back into the woman. "Mama," Agnes said again and kissed Scottie's cheek.

"You munchkin," Scottie said, hugging the little girl. "Tell mommy Merry Christmas."

Again Agnes looked up at Scottie, then at the camera and said 'Mewwy Cwismas, mama,' before she turned back into Scottie, and hugged the woman. "Mama."

Scottie looked at the camera, cradling the child. "Hello, Elizabeth, we just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas from France. Take care and we love you!" The video then ended with a black screen.

Ressler's eyes met Liz's as her tears overflowed. "She doesn't even know who her mother is anymore! What have I done?"

Taking the phone gently from her hands, Ressler wrapped his arms around her as she fell into his chest, sobbing.

"I'm sorry, Liz," he whispered, and rubbed her back. She shook against him as she cried, and her arms wrapped around his middle.

"Me too," she sobbed, "What was… what was I thinking?"

"You did what was right for you and Agnes at the time, Liz,' he offered.

"Was it?" she pulled back and looked up at him, tears streaming. "I don't know what's right any more."

His hands still on her, he rubbed her arms. "It will all work out," he said, unsure what to say that would help. How could it possibly work out with her separated from her child like this?

"Will it? I don't know." She pulled away from him, and looked at her phone again, as he fervently hoped she wouldn't press Play again.

"I just don't know anymore what's right for me or her." Her fingers brushed the tears from her cheeks and she stood at a loss in the kitchen.

"I know," he said, and gave her a small smile, rubbing her arms again before he reluctantly dropped them from her. "Look, uh, why don't you go freshen up, and I'll get our dinner on the table, okay?"

She nodded, sniffed hard, then headed for the bathroom. He watched her walk away, wondering why Scottie would have sent that. Had the woman really not understood how much that would have hurt Liz? He figured that with small children, there was no telling what they'd do with a camera on them, but still. Sighing heavily, he served up two plates of food, then set them on the table with two glasses of wine and waited for her.

Her face freshly washed, she came out a few minutes later and sat down at the table across from him.

"I'm sorry," she said, reaching across and touching his hand. "I just..."

"Don't be sorry. This is hard, and I understand that." He turned his hand to hold hers a moment, then in mutual agreement, they let go.

She reached for her wine and raised it to him. "To friendship, and those we are apart from," she said quietly, and he could have hugged her again at the pain behind her eyes as he raised his own glass.

###

The mood in the cabin had done a complete 180. Ressler, never one to make small talk had sat and listened to her talk about Agnes, and the decisions she'd made regarding her daughter, trying to offer support as best he could. She'd played the video again, he'd heard it when she went to the bathroom, and could see the redness from fresh tears in her eyes on her return.

"I think I'm going to turn in," she said, an hour after she had barely picked at her dinner. "If that's okay?"

"Of course. Hopefully tomorrow is a better day, huh?" he said, and she gave him a wan smile.

"I hope so too. Goodnight, Ress, and thank you," she said.

He didn't need to ask what she was thanking him for. It's what friends did. As she left for her room, Ressler sat alone on the couch, as his eyes drifted to the tree. The lights were still the same. The ornaments just as sparkling in the firelight, yet it no longer gave the room the same warm glow that it had earlier.

After trying to watch an old movie, he conceded defeat and finally shut if off. He padded along the hallway to the bathroom, then to his room. He paused outside Liz's door, hesitant, hand raised ready to knock after he'd heard a soft sniffle from inside. Head down, he then turned and went to his room, quietly shutting the door.

###

He wasn't sure how long it took him to fall asleep, but he was sure he hadn't been asleep long – the clock said 12:32am – when his door opened. Lit in the soft moonlight coming through the open curtains, wordlessly, Liz came slowly into his room. He stared at her, unsure what to say.

She knew he was awake. His eyes caught in the soft light of the moon. "Ress," she whispered, her voice slightly nasally with shed tears. "I just don't want to be alone..."

His heart lurched in his chest. "Okay..." he whispered back, as if to speak too loud would break the air between them.

"I just want to... lay beside you. Is that… is that okay?"she asked, stopping halfway across the room, then sniffed through tears.

Trying to calm himself, he rose up to one elbow and pulled the blankets down from the pillow beside him. He didn't trust himself to speak, but let her know she was welcome. He was glad of the darkness that hid most of his features. His heart pounded in his chest, and he was sure she could hear it.

"Thank you," she whispered, and in her tiny shorts and t-shirt, she slid into the other side of the bed. She didn't move close to him, but lay on her side facing him as she pulled the blankets over her shoulders.

He didn't know if she wanted or needed to talk, or more to the point, if she wanted to come closer. Unsure if he trusted his body to behave if she did that, he breathed a sigh of relief when she again whispered her thanks in the dark and stayed out of arm's reach. Emotions running a mile a minute through him, slowly, he lay down on his back again, his head turned to look at her closed eyes.

"Are you okay with this?" she asked, opening her eyes to him again.

"Uh, huh, yeah..." he said, wishing like hell he could actually sound like he was okay with this. Because he was. He was more than okay, just surprised and worried his body would betray him. "Yes," he said, finally regaining some control. "It's okay, Liz."

"Thank you, Ress," she whispered, sniffed again, then stretched and settled in and closed her eyes again. She didn't touch him, as if understanding his dilemma regarding that.

And this time, it took even longer for Ressler to fall asleep, watching his sleeping partner beside him in the dim light of the moon.


	5. Chapter 5

He rose before her in the morning, silently sliding out of bed so as not to wake her. On his way to the bathroom, he grabbed his jeans and a clean shirt, and dressed in the bathroom after a quick shower. By the time he left the bathroom, the smell of coffee wafted down to him from the kitchen. As he stood in the doorway of the kitchen, still combing out his damp hair, she turned to him and smiled.

She took a deep breath, facing him. "I'm sorry if that was awkward for you last night. I really just couldn't bear to be alone, and needed to hear someone else breathing beside me." She said it in a rush, as if she'd rehearsed what to say to him.

He smiled, then took the coffee she offered him. "Perfectly fine," he said, taking a sip of his coffee. "I just hope I didn't snore," he added with a laugh, "or at least not too loudly."

It broke the slight tension, and she grinned at him. "No, you didn't," she said, then touched his arm. "Thank you, Ress."

As she headed to the bathroom he started making their breakfast, and by the time she appeared 15 minutes later he had bacon, eggs and toast ready for them.

"I'm starving!" she said, and this time ate all of her meal as they sat at the dining table. "So what's the plan today?" she asked over her coffee cup.

"Feel up to taking a walk? It's not quite as cold today," he said, having already checked a weather app on his phone. "We don't need to go far, but I'd like to show you around the place," he added.

"I'd like that too," she said and once breakfast was done, they tidied up. As Ressler maneuvered around her in the kitchen, it conjured up an image of his parents doing the same thing. A simple dance and in tune with the other as they deftly washed and dried plates, never bumping into the other. He looked at Liz under lowered eyelashes and thought of her beside him last night. And once again, his heart lurched at that memory.

###

They'd been walking about 20 minutes when Ressler spotted the deer. He slowed, put his hand on Liz's arm and motioned her down into a crouch. Unsure what he had seen, she followed his pointing finger, and saw the deer standing magnificent in the trees, his antlers tall and proud.

"Oh!" she whispered, then was quiet, afraid the deer would bolt. He was joined by a smaller doe, and together they watched silently as the pair nibbled at the tree foliage and slowly slipped away into the trees again.

As the deer disappeared from view, Ressler and Liz stood up together. "They were beautiful!" Liz said, her voice still hushed.

"Yeah, there used to be a whole lot more of them around in my youth, but not as many now, it seems," he told her as they resumed their walk. They walked along the creek bed as it tumbled over small rocks. It was narrow enough to jump over in parts, but he found a spot that had a large flat rock in the middle. "Pete and I put this stepping stone here eons ago," he said, "and the darn thing is still here."

He held her hand as she stepped onto the rock and he pulled her to the other side of the creek after he'd crossed it. On the other side of the creek they followed it for a little while and then they came across a cleared area of trees.

"I'm not sure why the trees don't grow here, but my mother always told us it's a fairy ring," he said, then shrugged. "Pete and I said it was where an ogre had been killed and his black blood poisoned the ground." He glanced at her and smiled awkwardly. "Hey, we were little boys with vivid imaginations, okay?"

Liz laughed as they walked on the grass under the trees, and looked up at the pine trees surrounding them in a circle. "I'm going with your mother's theory," she said and then in her heavy coat, boots and gloves, she twirled in a circle in the small clearing. "I can just see the Fairy King here," she said. "I was a little girl once, you know," she grinned and then suddenly her smile dropped.

He knew why as the thought of her own little girl came to her. "Hey, come on," he said and held her arm as she stopped twirling. "Let me show you the waterfall."

She met his eyes at that, and gave him a small smile. "Waterfall?"

"Oh, yeah, it's huge," he deadpanned and led her from the small clearing. And a few minutes later they stood at the said waterfall and Liz grinned. It was barely 3 feet high and just a small drop in the creek where the water bubbled a little faster before resuming it's lazy pace.

"See? Huge. Rivals Niagara Falls," he said and her eyes lit up at his teasing, as she dissolved into laughter against him.

He'd made her laugh, and for that he was grateful as they turned around and headed back toward the cabin.

###

"It's going to snow tonight," Ressler said, coming back inside after getting more firewood that evening.

"So we might have a white Christmas?" Liz asked, smiling.

"Maybe," he replied, adding the new wood to the small pile of logs by the fire, "but more likely a white Christmas Eve Eve," he added with a smile.

"Oh, details," she said with a laugh, looking up from his movie collection. "Wow, you weren't lying," she said, running her finger along the titles. Most of them were family movies, but a few stood out. "These must have been your mom's, right?" she said holding up Ghost, Titanic, and Pretty Woman. "Definitely chick flicks."

Ressler groaned, remembering have to endure them as a teen. His mother loved them. "Oh, please don't tell me you want to watch those?"

"Oh, come on! These are great! I haven't seen them in years. Chick flick marathon?"

He was cornered. But then he didn't mind, not at the light in her eyes. "And I think we have some 19 year old popcorn I can make in the air popper," he said, grinning.

"Perfect! Same age as the movies," Liz said, inserting Pretty Woman in the player, getting it ready.

And popcorn made, drinks procured, they sat together on the couch, Liz with her blanket around her, the lights off and only the light of the fireplace as they watched Pretty Woman, and then Ghost. Shortly after the movie started, the first flakes of snow began to fall outside.

Yes, they were chick flicks, but Ressler was only half watching the movies anyway. Lit in the soft glow from the fireplace and the Christmas tree, Liz was beautiful. And a master at sliding glances across to her while appearing to look elsewhere, he couldn't keep his eyes off her.

###

He woke at the sound, and knew what it was. Or who it was. Just as last night, Liz came to his bedroom silently, padding across the floor in her t-shirt and shorts. Ressler watched her, not saying a word. As he turned to the empty side of the bed, she stood there, as if waiting for his permission.

And he gave it, moving the blanket down for her. Silently, she crawled into the bed, bringing the blankets up over her small frame. He lay facing her, knowing this was different. She wasn't upset and hadn't been crying, like last night.

She looked across at him in the moonlight, brighter with the white blanket of snow outside. He met her eyes, and still neither of them spoke. His breathing quickened. She was the first to move, sliding closer to him, her fingers tentatively finding his bare chest. At her touch he suppressed the gasp as his heart lurched. She inched closer to him, her hand moving gently on his chest.

His hand came up and held hers, stopping its movement across his sternum. Was she sure about this? Was _he_ sure about this? Opening his mouth to ask, he never uttered a word as her lips met his, silencing him with her warm mouth. And that was all he needed. His hand left hers and circled her back, finding the soft skin under her t-shirt as he pulled her toward him.

As her mouth opened beneath his tongue, his hand dropped lower, slipping over the silky fabric of her shorts to cup her butt. He felt the shudder go through her, and then it was his turn to gasp as her hand did the same down his back. Hands pulling each other closer, their hips ground together, leaving no room for imagination. He was ready, hardening against her, probing at her hidden places with his length.

Mouths still tasting each other, they paused, each leaning back a little, even as their lower bodies had a mind of their own.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, hoping like hell she wouldn't stop now. Because he wasn't sure he could.

"Hell, yes," she whispered, hungry for him, pulling him closer to her as his hand moved, slipping under her shorts to cup the naked skin of her butt. Gasping, her hand slid between them, fondling him through his own shorts.

Needing to be naked, they pulled each others clothing off in a rush, leaving both of them exposed.

"Now," she hissed, pulling him even closer. Within moments he rolled her to her back. Above her, he entered her, finding her wet and ready as she gasped, her legs circling his waist. They moved as one, gasping, their mouths never leaving each other. It was fast, frantic and breathy, hands clutching each other close as they became one flesh.

###

Afterward, he lay panting on top of her, eyes closed, his forehead touching hers as she rubbed his back.

Reluctantly, not wanting to end their connection so soon, he rolled off her, his breathing almost under control. He lay lay beside her, his arm still over her, looking into her eyes.

"What was that?" he asked, knowing full well what it was.

"You know what it was," she whispered, echoing his thoughts. Her finger found his lips. "Don't over think it," she said, then turned into him, rubbing his chest.

He nodded and kissed her forehead. "Oh, you know me," he replied.

She chuckled against him. "Yes. I certainly do now," she said, then looked up at him, smiling in the dark. He caught her eyes in the moonlight.

"You okay with this?" she asked, so close to him he felt her breath on his chest.

In reply, he drew her closer, kissing the top of her hair. He was more than okay with it. He hadn't felt this good, this complete, in a very long time.

And holding each other, they drifted off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

He woke before her at first light, hearing the birds outside as the soft pale light filtered through the trees. She was still against him, her nakedness all too apparent in the morning light. He didn't want to wake her, and just lay still, taking in the moment. Taking in the feel of her against him as her body moved slightly with every breath. It had been years since he'd felt this sense of peace. With Audrey… He looked up at the ceiling, and sent up a silent 'I hope this is okay, sweetie,' yet somehow knowing she'd be happy for him.

A little while later, Liz moved slightly against him, stirring from her sleep. She woke to find him still holding her against his chest. For a second, he felt the slightest jolt in her as she remembered, then felt her relax and mold back into him.

"Morning," he said softly, and rubbing his chest, she met his eyes, smiling.

"Morning," she replied, then remembered something else. "Happy Christmas eve," she said, eliciting a grin from him.

"If this is Christmas eve, I can't wait for Christmas," he said, smiling.

"Oh, well, if you play your cards right, you might just have a very good Christmas," she told him, moving against him as her hand slid down his chest, then lower to find him already half aroused. His arms encircled her, and in one movement he rolled her, gently spread her legs with his knee as he supported himself on his elbows.

And this time they savoured it. They moved slowly, making it last, enjoying the feel of each other as their two bodies entwined.

###

An hour later, after a not so successful attempt at showering together in the small bathroom, but still having fun with it, they made breakfast.

"What's the plan today?" she asked, as they sat across the table from each other.

He looked up from his bacon, and met her eyes. He knew what he'd rather be doing today. Specifically, doing _to her_ today.

"Oh, I know that look," she laughed, sipping on her coffee.

"Hey, I'm a guy," he said, as if that explained everything.

She quieted then, and looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. "I've just never seen that look in you."

He shrugged, feeling that silence was his best option here.

"But I like it, seeing it in your eyes," she clarified, smiling at him over her coffee cup. "Very much so." Her hand slid across the table, and his met hers.

Their eyes met, and then he lowered his fork to his plate. He glanced out the window, then back at her, his expression serious.

"Uh oh, you're over thinking it," she teased, lowering her coffee cup. "I know that look too."

He nodded. Yes, she knew him.

She smiled at him. "You're thinking that now that things have changed, how are we going to go forward? Are we in a relationship or friends with benefits? How are we going to work together if we're in a relationship? How will Cooper handle this, coming so soon after Aram and Samar? Am I right?"

He smiled, looking down, and then back at her. That was half of it. "Nailed it."

She squeezed his hand, then drew it back from his as she finished off her breakfast. "You know what I think?"

He met her eyes, the faintest of smiles on his lips, then told her what she was thinking. "You're thinking that we're adults. We can do this and still work together. And that if we want to sleep together it's none of Cooper's damn business." He raised his eyebrows in question.

She laughed, and he smiled, loving seeing that in her. "Oh, you're good," she told him, then rose and began to clear the table. As he poured them a second coffee, they stepped out onto the porch. The sun was up, and despite the snow from last night it wasn't bitter cold. As they sipped their coffee and leaned on the porch rail, his eyes wandered over the white landscape.

"There is something though, that I'm not over thinking, but I do feel that I need to..." Faltering, he looked down, then felt her hand on his arm.

"Tell me," she said, as her coffee steamed from her mug around her face.

Mind made up, he looked out at the trees again. "If we're going to do this, then you need to know all of me. Everything. The good, the bad, the ugly." He turned back to her, to find her blue eyes piercing in the morning light against the snow.

"Then you need to know about me, too," she replied softly. "All of it. Fair's fair."

And in understanding, they went back into the cabin, and after he added another log to the fire, they made themselves comfortable on the couch.

"I'll go first," he said, looking toward the photo of his father, as if to receive his blessing. What was it about being in this cabin that made him confide his deepest, darkest secrets to those he loved? He took a deep breath. "It's about Laurel Hitchin..."

###

He'd spilled it all. His killing Hitchin, hiring Prescott. How he'd become the very thing he despised in cops. The very thing that got his father killed. And then what Red had done. The whole sordid mess. She'd let him talk without interruption. At times silent tears had rolled down her cheeks as he spoke. At others her hand reached for his, supporting him over the more painful parts. And he told her how he'd struggled while she'd been in the coma, needing her to wake up.

"So that's why Cooper made me take two weeks off. And why I came here to try and clear my head," he finished. "And I spent one evening telling my father everything I just told you." Liz glanced at the photo on the wall. She knew what he meant.

"I'm so sorry, Ress, that my being in the coma affected you so deeply..."

"It's okay," he assured her, turning back from the crackling fire.

"And Red came here, knowing what you were going through, far more than Cooper did."

He nodded. "You know Red," he said, then got up and stretched his legs as she groaned. She did indeed know Red.

"Let me get another coffee, and then.."

"Then it's my turn," she finished for him, as she held her empty cup up to him. "I'll have another too."

"Hitting the hard stuff, huh?" he said with a smile. "I'm afraid I don't have the dutch courage I had here when I," he caught his father's eyes again, "the last time," he said with a shrug, remembering the beers he'd tossed back that night.

As he sat back down, Liz held her warm mug in her hands, and began. She told him of Alaska. Of the need to escape the city and be someone else while her body healed. Of how she had brought death and carnage in her wake. That no matter what she did, death followed her.

When she finished telling him of the men she had killed in cold blood, she leaned into him and sobbed against his chest. He held her as she cried, reliving the past trauma, as she begged him, needing to know what was wrong with her. With his arms wrapped around her, he held her close, kissing the top of her head. How could he tell her that there was nothing wrong with her, when he had wondered the same thing of himself so many times the past two years. He couldn't. Each of them would always feel that way. That inside each of them lived a part of themselves they didn't recognize.

"There's something else," she said, once she had quieted down.

"More?" he asked, wondering. Whatever it was, he'd listen to every word. "Spill it," he told her.

She took a deep breath, leaned back off him, clasped her fingers around his, and said, "What would you do if I told you that Red, the Red we know, isn't really Raymond Reddington?"

That got his attention. "What?"

"He's an imposter."

Head tilted in confusion as her words sunk in, he turned on the couch, facing her. "What are you talking about?"

And in the quiet of the cabin, with him hanging onto her every word, she told him about the bones in the duffel bag. Who the skeleton had been.

"Wow..." he whispered, shaking his head. "So this Red isn't your father, after all."

"No, the real Reddington was."

She looked away, and then sighed. "And, Ress… Sutton Ross didn't kidnap me. I planned that with him."

He gasped at that, remembering how he'd felt. The terror that had gripped his heart as he'd raced through the Post Office corridors to reach her, kicking himself for leaving her alone with Ross. And she had never been in danger.

"I'm sorry, I really am. But I needed to know! Red was never gonna tell me himself!"

He searched her eyes, seeing the truth in them, despite the fact she had lied to them on that day. "I know. I actually don't know how you do it, Liz, dealing with Red the way you do." His eyes narrowed. "He doesn't know that you found out he's an imposter and not your father, does he?"

"No, Red doesn't know that I know." She sighed, then leaned close. "And..."

"There's more?" He looked into her eyes. "Sorry, go on. I need to hear it all. Every last bit, Liz."

"Thank you." She told him about Jennifer, and that now she had a half sister who had a stake in finding out who Red had been. "So we, Jennifer and I, we're working on finding out why this man took over the life of our real father 30 years ago."

He nodded silently. It was a lot to take in. How could Red not be Red? He'd chased the man for years. Who had he hunted down? The real Red had been Liz's father, but not this man. Not Red version two. He shook his head. It was unbelievable.

When she finished speaking, they sat in silence. The crackle of the fire the only sound. The unspoken question hung in the air between them. Each of them searched for the answer in each others eyes after revealing their innermost secrets. Were they still okay with each other, now knowing this about the other?

"Are we…?" she whispered, the first to break the silence. Needing to know.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He could never walk away from her. Especially not now. His hand squeezed hers. "We're okay," he said, clutching her close once more. "We're okay, Liz," he repeated, his arms wrapped around her. With their souls bared, the weight lifted off each of them and they sunk into each other. Whatever came after this, they wouldn't be alone in it.

Then he took her hand in his as he rose from the couch. "Come on," he said, and she didn't need to be asked twice. Together they went to the bedroom, closed the door, and lost themselves in each other.

###

That evening, they sat in the darkness of the living room, the only light coming from the fire and the Christmas tree. They'd made love and slept most of the afternoon, finding solace and reaffirming their trust and belief in the other, and he felt pleasantly content. She felt the same, sitting beside him on the couch, leaning on him, as if her body could not bear to be apart from his.

He felt the same. He couldn't let her go. Couldn't take his eyes and thoughts off her. He moved a little while later to add more wood to the fire, and in the moonlight outside they could see it was snowing again.

"I could live here forever," she said sleepily as he sat back beside her. He lay the blanket back over them as they sat in the dark, the only light that from the log fire. "Can't we? Just forget everything and stay here?" she asked, chuckling softly against him.

They both knew forever at the cabin was impossible, but still he smiled at her. "Well, not forever, but we did have nine days off work," he said, "We could stay here that long?" Nine days he'd thought he'd have been climbing the walls. All those days he'd been dreading taking off work. And now...

"Let's do it. Yes. Just stay here until we absolutely have to go back to the city," she said against his chest.

"It's a deal," he told her, then glanced at his watch. 12:02am. "Merry Christmas, Liz," he said softly, and kissed her.

"Merry Christmas...Don," she said as they broke apart.

He sat up at that. He'd never heard her use his name. It sounded foreign, yet he liked it. And as soon as she said it, he knew. Ress was her work name for him. Don was...this. The name she'd use when they were alone.

"That's my Christmas present to you," she said, smiling at him. "I mean, I definitely know you now."

He smiled. Indeed, they had no secrets now, physically or emotionally. And suddenly, he wanted to tell her. "Liz..." But then he was afraid to, and stopped. What if she didn't reciprocate? How could he say those three words that weren't that simple. He loved her. He hugged her closer to him instead.

"I know," she replied, kissing his cheek. "I know." She snuggled into him more under the blanket and he felt her growing drowsy against him. Neither of them made a move to get up and go to bed, each too content and comfortable where they were. He thought she'd fallen asleep as he pulled the blanket over her more, as they curled under it together on the couch, the soft crackle and flicker of the fire filling the room.

He closed his eyes, holding her close, and he was half asleep when her voice came out of the dark. "I love you too."

THE END


End file.
